It was the first Thursday of the school holidays and Nicholas was at work with me, I was looking forward to having lunch with him but first a quick toilet break.
Something is not right, I felt something stretch and then pop and clear fluid starts leaking into the toilet. There was no pain and no blood. I tried very hard not to panic and rang the doctor. They told me to come straight in. I left Nicholas at work with a brief explanation so he wouldn’t worry too much and walked around the corner to the doctors.
I relaxed a little, the fluid stopped leaking and the doctor saw me. He checked on you and it was the first time that I heard your heart beat. It might be ok, you’re still alive and the leaking has stopped. Don’t panic, I will have an ultrasound and we will find out what happened.
Given that the next day is Good Friday the doctor recommends that I go to the hospital to get an ultrasound, that way they are aware of the circumstances just in case.
As I walk back to work I am devastated to feel that I am losing a lot more fluid. I call Dad, he collects Nicholas and me then we head to the hospital.
We get to the hospital around 1.30pm and we’re informed that there a few people before us and the couple waiting the longest have been there just under 5 hours, so we settle in. Despite the fact that the Dr spoke to the gynaecologist on duty we have to be seen by a rostered emergency Dr first.
Just before 4pm we are hustled through to have an ultrasound as they finish at 4pm. I get to see you again and my hopes rise a bit. You are alive and kicking however there is no amniotic fluid around you. I’m not told a lot at this stage and I have to go and wait for the Dr to see me.
It is not good news, there is not fluid around you and without the amniotic fluid your lungs can not develop. You are not quite at 18 weeks and your lungs don’t develop fully until 24 weeks. There is a very small possibility that the membranes will repair and the fluid will be replaced but we need to wait and see. The Dr’s main concern is for me as I am at a great risk of infection and they want to put me on antibiotics straight away and monitor me.
The best chance you have is for me to be on bed rest in order for the ruptured membranes to heal and for the fluid to be replaced so I am admitted to hospital.
We are all praying that God will grant us a miracle and that you will survive.
I am resting and Dad and Nicholas visit us every day. They have Easter Sunday lunch in the hospital with us and your Babooshka. We joke that it is a memorable Easter lunch and definitely a first for us.
We get to hear your heartbeat again and this time it is a first for Dad and Nicholas. I am able to feel you kicking more and more and I love it.
The public holidays are over and on Wednesday morning I am booked in for an Ultrasound. The results are not good. You’re still with us but you still have no fluid around you, your leg is down in the cervix and it is starting to open.
The Dr’s don’t want to induce if they can avoid it, it is much better for me if I go into spontaneous labour, I have until Friday and then they will reassess the situation.
I am so upset, we don’t know why this has happened, there was no sign of infection and you seem to be healthy apart from your lungs not being developed. We continue to pray for a miracle.
It is Thursday night, I know you are still with me because I can feel you kicking. I saw you again this morning and both of your legs are moving down. I am praying now that I don’t need to make a decision tomorrow and that the Lord either heals the membranes or starts the labour.
I say good bye to you. I know this is it and I am so thankful for the extra week I had with you to feel you kicking and moving around.
In the morning I wake up without pain however when I go to the toilet I notice that your cord is coming out. The Dr confirms that it is the umbilical cord and it is not pulsating so you are now dead. He can also feel your leg on its way out.
I am given some drugs to help with the labour and you are born at 12.03pm. We are given time with you to say good bye. You are perfectly formed and I can even see your toenails. I love you and I am so sorry I was not able to bring you home with me.
Good bye my precious little boy.
I will see you in heaven one day.